BooksBarbecue
Back Heap House
Chapters (28)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  28. About the Author

‘That’s it, we’ll meet there, tomorrow night without fail.’

‘Why there?’

‘It must be there, I should so like to see you there. Oh, everything’s going wrong. I’ll get this to Rosamud, that’ll help, I know it will. Tomorrow night, Lucy, dear Lucy!’ he cried, holding my hands, kissing me hard on the lips and then he was off. I don’t suppose he’d kissed many people before. I didn’t mind, he might try again if he liked.

I ran off too, back to my buckets and things and quickly down the stairs. I was very late, so late, because there was a very slight light coming up from the windows, some day trying to get through. I thought in all the chaos they shouldn’t concern themselves over me. As I went back down, all was quiet as it should be, some noises from the kitchens as breakfast was ready, but nothing out of the usual. I’ve made it, I thought, I’m safe now, no harm should come to me now, all over with. Clod will help, bound to, he’s all right he is, after all. Yes, I like him. And knowing that and the pleasure of thinking it, was something of sudden and curious delight. I like him, Clod Iremonger. I couldn’t stop my smiling. I put my buckets in their place, and went to the dormitory, all safe, all better now, try to sleep maybe. I’ll see him again tomorrow, all will be well. Florence Balcombe, I said to myself, Florence Balcombe and Clod Iremonger. I opened the door, all was quiet, in the many beds all those lumps sleeping. I moved quietly along the line of beds, and all was well. Quite well. Nearly at mine. Nearly there. Then I thought, that’s a bit odd, there’s someone sitting beside my bed, on the stool there, I must be mistaken, it’s some other Iremonger’s pit, surely, an Iremonger sitting up and getting ready for the day, some other Iremonger, not to worry, my bed must be further along, and I went on further a little, and that person at the bed watched me as I went on, and then that person, whoever it was sitting on the stool, said, ‘Good morning, Iremonger, I’ve been waiting for you.’

And I said, in my horror, ‘Good morning, Mrs Piggott.’

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14

AN ICE BUCKET

Clod Iremonger’s narrative continued

In the Corkscrew